The buck-toothed woman appeared in the door and motioned her out, collecting the paper as she went. She handed it to a big goon in a black suit, and directed Arena in the opposite direction. She took Arena to a room with a computer to muddle through her first batch of CIA homework. Arena was sure there was nothing really secret on the tutorials, which outlined basic protocol. Most of it was common sense.
The woman reappeared and said “By the way, I’m Lorna. You can come with me now. Your paperwork all checks out. You’re going to meet the rest of the gang.”
They walked through more corridors and entered a hallway that suddenly looked very different from the cement bunker of the others. The rooms were infused with warmth, decorated in neutral colors and softly lighted panels. Some walls were burgundy or other deep, rich colors. The hallway opened to a common area with plush sofas and a plasma television, and Lorna led Arena around a corner into a large conference room filled with people.
Nate leaned against one wall, grinning broadly at her. He was now wearing a dark-blue T-shirt and jeans. Most of the others were casually dressed.
“I think you will find you made the right choice,” Nate said. “I know it’s scary now, but it will get easier.”
A woman with lurid red hair dressed in a shocking purple and fuchsia muumuu ran up to Arena and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Oh, my dear! I’m so glad you decided to join us! Aren’t you just adorable! We get so few new people, and you seem to have so much potential!” Being shaken to death by a Hawaiian tourist look-alike was not how Arena imagined her death.
“I’m Harriet! I want you to meet my husband George.” Harriet gestured toward an ordinary-looking man in a pink and yellow Hawaiian shirt, wearing a beige hat with a pink hatband. He nodded at her with a pained expression. Harriet continued almost immediately, “We sort of lead this merry little band. We look forward to getting to know you better and seeing you all trained up! That hoverboard ride you took was simply marvelous!”
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Harriet began guiding Arena around the room by the shoulder. Her grip was vice-like. “You’ve met Nate and Lorna, of course. I hope they weren’t too terribly harsh on you. It’s all supposed to be protocol, you know. The CIA likes that sort of stuff, and we have to vid and send your application process. Must be boring for some analyst to sit and watch!”
Harriet let her to a slightly plump Hispanic girl. “This is Anita. She works with all our computers and security stuff.” The girl looked as if she would bolt from the room at any second. Arena smiled at her, but the girl’s expression didn’t change except for a nearly imperceptible nod.
Then Harriet led her to a huge woman with a frightening expression. The woman eyed Arena and said flatly, “I’m Big Bertha.” Arena wasn’t sure if that was a joke or her real name. Her dark, dramatic eye makeup matched her cropped black hair and black clothing.
The last person was standing behind Bertha, leaning against a door frame. Arena was short at five feet tall, but he was at least six inches shorter. His expression challenged her to say something about it. He had dark brown, curly hair and bright blue eyes which seemed to search her for any sign of a failure. Harriet suddenly spun away to talk to her husband.
“I’m Arena.” She didn’t really know what else to say.
“Yes, everyone knows who you are.” His voice was rich and deep, like a radio announcer on an old-time radio show. Arena opened her mouth, but he continued, “I have strong reservations to your usefulness on this team, so you should not expect lenience. None of us have spare time for indulgence.”
“Whoever would think this would be easy?” she blurted, fury blended with irritation and exhaustion. “Obviously, if I’m here you don’t think I’m too stupid. It’s not like you people gave me much choice in the matter!”
Arena thought he would argue more, but he simply said, “Indeed.” As he turned and walked out the door, she heard, “Welcome to the Misfits.”